The Second Generation
by Psychopithicus
Summary: Four years ago, his parents were killed in the horrific accident in the F-Zero Grand Prix. Four years later, he himself now races in the same Grand Prix. F-Zero racers, meet Velos Inner. Possible PrinciaxOC, rated T to be safe.
1. Four Years Ago

**Author's Note: Hi, all. TeenPsychoPath here. Wow...this isn't my first fanfic EVER, but it's my first on this site and my first F-Zero fanfic. A little hard to get used to this site's way of doing things, I think. For anyone wondering, this is going to feature my OC character. I hope you like him.**

**This entire fanfic itself was inspired by another F-Zero fanfic I currently read here: "Bound Together By Fate: The Don Genie Saga". I recommend it, it's great. Like it, I also mix the continuities of the Falcon Denetsu (or whatever it's called) anime and the games themselves (though I don't take a whole lot from the anime). This should have racing, humor, adventure, and maybe a little romance, not sure yet. But, in the meantime, I present the first F-Zero fanfic I've ever written: "The Second Generation"**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own F-Zero. Nintendo owns it. Happy?**

Prologue: Four Years Ago

Velos Inner's emerald eyes were fixated on the screen before him, never missing a second of the race coverage. In complete awe of the visions before him, Velos clutched the remote in his hand so tightly it seemed as if it would crush in his grip. Velos loved the F-Zero; after all, he had grown up with it around him.

Velos' parents, Roderick and Felicity Inner, were both F-Zero racers. Much like fellow competitors Gomar and Shioh, pilots of the machine dubbed the Twin Norrita, Roderick and Felicity both operated a single machine. The couple was extremely coordinated with each other, never missing a single race yet never winning one, either.

The reason for this blazed across the screen.

Number seven, the Blue Falcon, flown by none other than the famous Captain Falcon. Velos' parents were in a close second in their own machine, the Cyber Chariot, followed by F-Zero representative Super Arrow in his King Meteor. Other machines, such as Samurai Goroh's Fire Stingray and Pico's Wild Goose, brought up behind the Inners and Falcon.

"This is it, ladies and gentlemen!" boomed the announcer, Velos drinking in his every word. "It's the last lap, and it's no surprise that Captain Falcon's up in first, but the Inners are in a close second! Oh, wait, there's the Red Gazelle!"

Sure enough, a narrow column of red swept into the pack, the number "01" painted across the side. The Red Gazelle quickly squeezed between Goroh and Pico, sealing the opening as it boosted past them.

"Is the Gazelle going to make it?!" the announcer cried. "No, wait, Goroh cuts it off with a boost of his own! That's going to make it harder for the Night Thunder to get through!"

The arrow-shaped machine mentioned inched its way to the rear of the pack, lightning decals doing nothing whatsoever to enhance its speed. The green-and-yellow Wild Goose immediately slammed into the side of the Night Thunder, knocking the machine off balance and sending it into a guardrail.

"Oh, what an end for Silver Neelson!" the announcer reported.

"Sorry, Neelson," Velos whispered. Mortimer "Silver" Neelson, the pilot of the Night Thunder, was a long-time friend of the Inner family. Having raced in the F-Zero for decades, Neelson had more knowledge of the experiences of the Grand Prix than all other pilots put together—including Captain Falcon. Neelson often passed on his knowledge to those who bought him a drink, something the Inner parents did quite often.

Other racers decided to force their way into the pack. Two machines, the Mighty Hurricane and the Mighty Typhoon, both parts of the racing team known as Team Shooting Star, appeared at the rear end of the pack. The Team Shooting Star members added to the tense struggle for first place, Falcon still managing to hold his lead.

"What an intense Grand Prix this is, folks! Wait—WHAT IN THE GALAXY IS PICO DOING?!" yelped the announcer as the Wild Goose boosted, leaning very close to the guardrail, and took a sudden left turn, attempting a reckless ram into the Blue Falcon.

Pico's mad plan worked…to a degree. While the Wild Goose did hit Falcon quite hard, the other racers were speeding too fast to stop. Machines were sent soaring into the air by the sheer force of impact, the Red Gazelle being the epicenter of the explosion of kinetic energy. Some machines were even flung into the stands, injuring many innocent spectators.

"Wha-what just happened?!" the announcer cried.

Velos could barely believe his eyes.

"Mom! Dad!" the twelve-year-old cried, leaping from his seat and dashing to the television. He scanned the pile-up furiously, hoping to find some trace of his parents.

He did.

He soon wished he did not.

The tears in Velos Inner's emerald eyes served one good purpose: they blurred the sight of the near-complete destruction of the Cyber Chariot.


	2. Four Years Later

**Yes, I'm still putting this up despite the fact that the majority of the F-Zero section's fanfics don't get a lot of reviews (if any at all). It might get reviews later on, though, so heck with it, on with the fic!**

**DISCLAIMER: I still don't own F-Zero. And most likely never will.**

Chapter 1: Four Years Later

The once clean Inner family home had fallen into shambles. Mismatched against the pristine neighborhood, the house more resembled an abandoned slum than anything else. And yet, it did have one resident.

Currently, this one resident stood in the Inner home's garage, wearing a gray jacket over a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up as he slowly repaired the Cyber Chariot. His navy jeans managed to avoid being burnt by scattering sparks, as did his black shoes. Progress on the repairs was slow—indeed, it had taken three years to fix the machine—but, soon, it would be ready.

Now sixteen, Velos Inner dragged a welder's flame across a crack in the Chariot's body, melting the sides enough to seal the crack. Defusing the welder, Velos pulled his orange-tinted goggles up onto his significantly longer black hair. He smiled. Every day, his parents' machine was looking more and more like it used to in its prime. Only several more days would do it.

"One day, this thing is definitely entering a Grand Prix," Velos vowed.

"It sure is, kiddo!" croaked a voice behind him.

"Hey, Ironman," Velos said without even turning around, lowering his goggles and once again welding his machine.

The old man named Mortimer "Silver" Neelson hobbled forward on his cane, lowering his own black goggles to avoid sparks burning his eyes, though he assumed his white beard would be unable to evade being singed. His brown coat, matching his pants, flapped behind him as his boots clunked the ground.

Like Velos' parents before him, Neelson served as a sort of mentor to the Inner child. Velos almost saw Neelson as a surrogate grandfather, seeing as the old racer fought hard to have Velos plucked from the orphanage the Galactic Space Federation had placed him in. Knowing that racing blood ran in Velos' veins, Neelson had the remains of the Cyber Chariot taken from Federation custody three years prior, allowing Velos the time to fix it.

"Your parents would be so proud, kiddo," Neelson commented. "Too bad they aren't here to see their son race."

"Yeah," Velos agreed. "Hate to sound like one of those emos, but 'Pico will pay for what he did to my family'," Velos added, pausing to clear his throat and add dramatic effect to his false vow.

"How long do you think you have to go?" Neelson asked.

"Oh, two to three days," Velos answered, returning to welding, "should be ready in time for the next Grand Prix."

"You've got a long time until then, kiddo," Neelson said. "This year's Grand Prix ended a few months ago. You've got enough time to brush up on your racing skills, I think."

"I'm gonna need it," Velos groaned. "I have to go against Captain Falcon. _Fal-con_. The guy who wins the F-Zero _every year_."

"Heh heh, yeah, that's true," Neelson chuckled. "If you went into the F-Zero Pilot Training School, though—"

Velos turned off his welder and slammed his palms onto his machine.

"Neelson, you know how I feel about Super Arrow," Velos said in a serious tone.

Velos' dislike of the costumed racer stemmed from the aftermath of the accident four years before. Unlike any other racer involved, Super Arrow emerged from the pile-up without the slightest of scratches on him, completely contrary to Velos' parents. After the F-Zero had restarted, thanks to Arrow's arguments, the pilot of the King Meteor founded a school for aspiring racers, something Velos was determined to be no part of.

"Sorry, kiddo," Neelson apologized. "It's just that…well, it's not just people who don't know how to race who enroll. It's pretty hard to get into the Prix without an official license from the school."

"Whoa, back up," Velos interjected, finally turning. "You said—and I remember these words like they were five seconds ago—you said 'I'll vouch for you, kiddo, count on it'. Since when was your memory that bad, Neelson?"

Neelson's response was a raw, hearty laugh. Velos never failed to, in some way, amuse the aged racer.

"Ha-ha!" Neelson guffawed. "Right again, kiddo. Guess I must be getting old."

"Well, if you keep racing after you turn a hundred, you might actually outrun your age," Velos joked.

"Ha!" Neelson chuckled. "And most people think you would be dark and brooding after you saw your parents die on galaxy-wide television!"

"Is the way I dress _that bad_?!" Velos shouted to the sky. "Ugh, there's no accounting for taste in some people."

"Speaking of accounting," Neelson said. "After you give the Cyber Chariot a few test runs, maybe you and I can enter a bet race?"

"You mean that kind of race you got Falcon to enter?" Velos asked.

"Yep!" Neelson smirked. "That's how I got the same million space credits I used to get what was left of the Chariot out of the junkyard. It's a pretty good way to get a taste of what a real Grand Prix is like."

"First, though, I have to actually _have a machine_," Velos pointed out, returning once again to his welding. "Like I said, should be ready in a couple more days."

"I'll see you in a couple of days then, kiddo!" said Neelson cheerfully as he left. "We'll see how well you race then, won't we?"

"We sure will, Neelson," Velos muttered, smirking as he continued the repairs on the Cyber Chariot. "We sure will."

Seconds later, a growl escaped from his abdominal regions. Chuckling lightly, Velos put a hand over his stomach.

"Whoops, lunchtime," laughed Velos, replacing his welder on his parents' machine and departing the garage. Rather than heading left, like Neelson, he instead headed right. He had taken this route before.

Given that Velos had no means of transportation, having a defunct machine and no F-Zero license, he usually took a Galaxy Cab taxi to the Galaxy Diner for lunch. He was friends with one of the cabbies, the one whose cab he usually took.

After walking a short distance, Velos pressed a button on a pole marked "GALAXY CAB". After a few short minutes, a bright yellow hovering cab rocketed up to the sign, scooted forward several inches, and finally backed several more inches. A window rolled down, and an alien with a head reminiscent of a yellow grasshopper poked his pointed nose out the window.

"Hey, Vee!" called the cabbie named PJ. "Let me guess, Galaxy Diner, right?"

"This and the next few hundred times," Velos answered, entering the cab. Like when it arrived, PJ's taxi jolted off, PJ's notorious driving skills demonstrating themselves immediately.

"So, uh, how's your folks' machine?" PJ asked.

"Couple more days and it'll be finished," Velos answered proudly.

"Sweet!" PJ said. "Guess I'll be watching you race in the Grand Prix this year."

"Yeah, guess so," Velos smiled, leaning back in his seat.

PJ absent-mindedly flipped a switch on his console, activating a radio. The music that played was a song by pop artist Jack Levin, though Velos seemed to be irritated by the song.

"PJ," Velos said sternly.

"Oh, my bad," PJ said, turning the radio off.

PJ knew of this, as did Neelson: Velos disliked racers affiliated in any way with the Galactic Space Federation. As the Federation police—and their subsequent Mobile Unit—worked for the same organization that put Velos in an orphanage, it was difficult for the teenager to not dislike the Federation racers for, as Neelson called it, "keeping him from destiny". These racers included the likes of Jody Summer, John Tanaka, Jack Levin, and others.

"So, uh, how was this year's Prix?" PJ asked.

"Amazing as always," Velos replied. "Had a surprise ending, though. Who would have thought some maniac named Deathborn would show up and throw Black Shadow to who knows where?"

"Really," PJ agreed.

"Anyone know how the race between Falcon and Deathborn turned out?" Velos asked. "All I saw was Deathborn publicly challenge Falcon."

"Falcon won," PJ answered.

"Of course," Velos sighed.

"He didn't say much about how it happened," PJ continued. "All he said was that Deathborn died from his machine falling into lava."

The cab then made a sudden sharp turn, launching Velos into the side of the car.

"I'd hate to see you race," Velos moaned. "Oh, am I criticizing your flying again?"

"Eh, you're not the first," PJ shrugged. "Besides, my _worst_ passengers are drunks. And couples who can't keep their hands off each other."

The cab then seemed to jump off of a ramp, coming to a sudden stop before Velos' door opened.

"Okay, here's the diner," PJ announced. "Good luck in the Prix, Vee."

"Later, Peej," Velos waved before heading into the diner, making sure the space credits Neelson had given him were still in his pocket.

****

In another area of Mute City, something else was happening. This sort of event was nothing like the rampant vandalisms of the racing gang known as the Bloody Chain, or like the bet races taking place at the Bet Race Dollars. It was something entirely different.

Right in the middle of the street, it seemed as if the air itself was warping. Slowly, the air curved in a circle, a small glow appearing in the middle. Suddenly, the glow exploded as wind rushed from the opening it created. With the wind, two F-Zero machines burst from the light, one towing the other.

The first, the one in front, resembled a large red bird with the legs being replaced by boosters. The second was a larger, green machine, with an open cockpit in which a rather large-headed robot worked.

"All right, Q, we're here," stated the pilot of the front machine with what seemed to be a Scottish accent. "Welcome to 2201, QQQ."

"Error," droned the robot called QQQ. "Malfunction. Data unclear. Memory access unsuccessful."

"You really shouldn't do that, Q," scolded the unknown pilot. "You know your memory isn't what it used to be."

"Affirmative, Master Phoenix," QQQ replied.

"And for the hundredth time, _please _don't call me that," the pilot named Phoenix sighed.

"Affirmative, Master Phoenix," repeated QQQ.

"Er, never mind," Phoenix grumbled. "Just follow me."

With that, Phoenix's time-traveling Rainbow Phoenix sped down the highway, QQQ's Rolling Turtle staying as close as possible.

****


	3. The Student VS the Teacher

**Moving on, now. Things start to get interesting here.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own F-Zero. Nintendo owns it. Happy?**

Chapter 2: The Student VS the Teacher

Three days passed. Velos continued to repair his parents' machine, now by inheritance his. Breaking only for sleep and food, Velos allowed the knowledge he accumulated over his years of effort to guide him. As he dragged the welder across the final crack, fusing its broken edges together, he lifted his goggles and smiled.

The Cyber Chariot looked exactly like it did four years ago. The main body, consisting of two connected sections, was a sort of dark grey with orange circuit board-like patterns running across it. The cockpit stood on a pedestal on the machine's larger right side, a wide glass visor allowing for visibility and fins poking from the sides and top for enhanced sleekness. The booster was essentially three small but powerful engines connected in a honeycomb-like way with two fins poking from the top corners.

It was ready.

"Whew," Velos sighed to himself. "Finally finished."

He set his welder down on a table positively covered in dust, along with various other power tools that looked factory-new compared to where they sat.

"Neelson usually limps in at around this time of day," Velos said to himself. "He should be here right about…now."

Right on cue, Neelson hobbled in. The minute he saw the completed Cyber Chariot, his wrinkled lips cracked into a wide smile.

"Ha-ha-ha!" Neelson laughed. "Way to go, kiddo! It took you three years, but you finally fixed your folks' machine!"

Still laughing like the happy old man he was, Neelson approached the machine for closer inspection.

"Let me guess," Neelson said, "you took off the other cockpit because you didn't need it?"

"Yep," Velos nodded. "I figured that, since I was going to be the only pilot, I wouldn't need the extra cockpit."

"Well, kiddo," Neelson said, clapping Velos on the back, "you did it. Now you can finally truly honor your parents by racing. And I know just how to put everything I've taught you to the test."

"And how's that?" Velos asked, leaning back against his machine.

"You and me, kiddo," Neelson said, "one-on-one!"

"Where at?" Velos asked, excitement beginning to boil within him.

"Well, right here!" Neelson exclaimed, sweeping his hands to the sides to gesture to the immediate area. "Right here, in Mute City! The Night Thunder's outside, I'll go out there and make sure everything's working like it should. You do the same."

Neelson left, muttering something about how machines broke down so easily. Velos shook his head, unable to hide a smile. Sometimes his mentor was such a strange man.

Velos approached his machine, and after a quick once-over to seek out any remaining damage, the cockpit split in half, allowing him entry.

"Okay," Velos said to himself as he sat in the chair, cockpit closing. "Accelerate, brake, steering…okay, I'm good."

For the first time in four years, the Cyber Chariot came to life with a resonating roar. Slowly, the machine levitated out of the garage, making a three point turn so as to be alongside Neelson's Night Thunder. At the same time, Neelson clambered into his own cockpit, which took up the entire middle section of the machine.

The race was about to begin.

Both machines' engines roared as each one's booster began to blaze. Velos' adrenaline was pumping. This was his first real F-Zero race.

"Last one to the diner buys!" Neelson called. "Ready…set…go!"

Both machines took off in a blast, though Velos had a slightly slower start. As the road was relatively clear, Neelson had no need to weave in and out to keep his lead. But he knew Velos: the young racer had a trick up his sleeve, he figured.

Velos did.

A simple twist of a stick activated Velos' booster, and the superior blast catapulted the Cyber Chariot ahead of the Night Thunder. Chuckling slightly, Neelson activated his own booster, and as the Night Thunder's booster was just as strong as that of the Cyber Chariot, he caught up to his competitor within seconds.

"Not bad so far, kiddo!" Neelson laughed.

"Thanks," Velos replied, "you're doing decently, yourself. You're still buying, though."

"Oh, we'll see about that, kid!" Neelson smirked, activating his booster again in tandem with Velos.

The two racers began to weave in between each other's paths, each attempting to ensure victory for themselves. Finally, as the curve approaching the diner came in sight, Velos made a sharp turn and swiftly slid into the lane beside the diner, coming to a stop. The Night Thunder, however, had gripping ability lower than that of the Cyber Chariot, and as a result Neelson lost much speed making the turn, stopping behind Velos and coming in second in their short race.

"Ha-ha-ha!" Neelson guffawed as he exited the Night Thunder, approaching Velos who also climbed down from the Cyber Chariot's boosted cockpit. "You did great, kiddo, you did great! You just beat someone who's been racing for decades! _Decades_, I tell you!"

"Hey, don't be getting senile on me yet, Neelson," Velos said, though unable to hide a smile at his accomplishment. "You're still buying."

****

As it was on a highly public, though relatively vacant road, Velos and Neelson's street race did not go unnoticed. In the headquarters of the Galaxy Mobile Platoon, all the members' eyes focused on a television screen mounted on the wall. Each had different reactions to what they saw on the newscast.

"This afternoon," began the newscaster, "a brief street race involving the F-Zero racer known as Silver Neelson and his unknown opponent took place in Mute City, ending at the Galaxy Diner."

Jody Summer, the Platoon's leader and spokesperson for the Federation, furrowed her brow. Spiky-haired Jack Levin, one of two pop stars who turned to F-Zero racing, simply smirked. The rather obese Dr. Clash raised one eyebrow at this development. Lucy Liberty, a young red-haired girl, stared intently at the screen, trying her best to see through the Cyber Chariot's visor, but to know avail. Ryu Suzaku, pilot of the Dragon Bird, joined Clash in the raising of eyebrows.

The other members of the Platoon had different reactions. Dr. Stewart, a surgeon who became a racer upon his father's death, put a hand to his chin in thought. The one member who had no reaction was Mr. EAD, a mustached android created by the development group rather fittingly called EAD. Mr. EAD merely retained a blank stare, analyzing as many details as he could.

"Longtime fans of the F-Zero may recognize the opposing machine as the Cyber Chariot," continued the newscaster. "Up until the accident four years ago, it was piloted by the husband-and-wife team of Roderick and Felicity Inner, both of whom are known to have perished in the crash caused by fellow racer Pico. Eyewitnesses assume that their only son, Velos, has taken up the mantle of racing."

"Can't say I blame the kid," Jack chuckled.

"This is serious, Jack," Jody said with the sternness she was well-known amongst her fellow Platoon members for. "I'm quite sure Velos doesn't have a license to race. Even Michael Chain, of all people, has a license."

"True," interjected Dr. Stewart, his hand never for a second parting from his chin. "One would think Velos would enroll in the Training School. That is, if he wanted to legally race in the Grand Prix."

"My data files indicate that Super Arrow came out of the accident with little injury," stated Mr. EAD. "Velos may dislike Super Arrow for that reason, seeing as his parents were killed in the crash."

"Yeah, I sometimes wonder how that cheese-ball got to be the representative of the F-Zero," said Ryu, shaking his head.

"I think he's mad at the Federation, too, for putting him in that orphanage," Lucy said quietly. "That's what I heard back in Port Town, after Neelson got him out."

"Anyone else think we should have told Tanaka that was a bad idea?" Jack suggested.

"Like it or not, John is our superior," Jody answered. "We follow the orders he gives, no matter how foolish they may seem."

"So, what do we do about Velos?" Jack asked.

"We wait to see what he becomes," said Jody simply.

****

Meanwhile, the same news broadcast was seen by another pair of eyes…one hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

In an abandoned apartment, a bald, muscular dark-skinned man allowed a twisted smile to curve his features.

"That kid could be the missing link I've been looking for," the man said to himself, "the link that might save the Bloody Chain."

****


	4. Bet Race Dollars

**After a brisk bout with writer's block, the third chapter has arrived.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own F-Zero. Nintendo owns it. All I own is Velos Inner and his Cyber Chariot (which I based off a machine in my garage on F-Zero GX). Happy?**

Chapter 3: Bet Race Dollars

The Grand Prix accident four years ago, the same one that had temporarily suspended the F-Zero, had a number of effect: the pilots of the Mighty Typhoon and Mighty Hurricane had mysteriously vanished from the hospital without a trace, the pilot of the Red Gazelle became a near-complete robot, and almost all of Pico's fan base disappeared in a flash. Another effect currently raced in the Prix.

Blood Falcon was a maniacal clone of Captain Falcon, serving the villainous racer called Black Shadow. When Captain Falcon was hospitalized in the accident, the Dark Million—Black Shadow's criminal organization—pounced on the opportunity, taking some of Falcon's blood and creating an altered clone. Blood Falcon, the red-and-purple garbed madman, was the result.

The clone was currently sulking near Bet Race Dollars, bemoaning his loss in the Grand Prix to himself. Despite being supposedly capable of everything the original Captain Falcon could do, Blood Falcon had lost the Prix to his clone template for the second time. In addition, his master Black Shadow had been banished to unknown regions by the enigmatic Deathborn. Aside from his master's second-in-command, Miss Killer, Blood was likely the only member of the Dark Million loyal in any way to Black Shadow.

A flash in the sky caught the clone's attention. Blood looked to see a dark figure fall from the sky a great distance away. Impulsively deciding to investigate, he entered his machine—the Blood Hawk—and sped towards his intended destination. Upon his arrival, he bounded out of the crimson machine and cautiously approached the body.

"Master?" Blood Falcon gasped.

True enough, Black Shadow himself rose from his fall. The dark racer stood, clutching his arm. Only two words came from his mouth:

"Where's Falcon?"

****

The next day, the Night Thunder led the Cyber Chariot down the streets of Mute City once again. This time, however, Neelson's machine slowed outside a building with a sign marked "BET RACE DOLLARS". The sign, in addition to its bright neon lights, had a small model of the Blue Falcon built on it.

"Here we are, kiddo," Neelson proclaimed, "Bet Race Dollars."

After parking their machines, both racers stepped into the bar. Immediately they were met with the sounds of racers talking, burps from too much to drink, and the occasional tussle between rival pilots.

"Let me explain the bet races to you, kiddo," Neelson began, leading Velos past the counter where the bartender worked. "Each race has exactly twelve racers in it. People bet on who they want to place in the top six, second, third, or first."

"Let me guess, people always bet for Captain Falcon to place first," Velos said.

"Yep," Neelson nodded. "Falcon always wins. Rumor has it that he practically _breathes _racing and bounty hunting, and _that's _why he's so good!"

"Racing 24/7?" Velos remarked. "No room for any personal life."

He turned his head, looking out to the starting gate below.

"Not sure I'd want a life like that," Velos added.

A purple-skinned figure suddenly crashed next to them, his most noticeable feature being a yellow tube connecting the top of his head to his chest. Velos immediately identified the figure as Zoda, pilot of the Death Anchor and high-ranking member of the Dark Million. Though he had a number of enemies among his fellow racers, the ones who gunned for him the most were Ryu Suzaku and Super Arrow.

"Ten space credits says 'Super Arrow threw him'," Velos said.

"Super Arrow!" Zoda snarled as he arose. "You'll pay for that!"

"I'm ten credits richer," Velos smirked as Zoda charged back towards his costumed arch-nemesis.

"You might be even richer when you enter," Neelson said. "Speaking of which, we need to sign up."

"What makes you so sure people will actually bet on me?" Velos asked as Neelson led him to the registration desk.

"Velos," Neelson began in a serious tone, turning to his apprentice, "people knew how good your parents were. They always managed to keep up with Falcon, and even though they never beat him, they always managed to place in the top six. They've got high hopes for you, kiddo, and your parents surely do, too."

"Yeah," Velos said simply. "I bet they do."

"Hey, Vee!" called a familiar, slightly high-pitched voice.

"PJ?!" Velos cried as the cabbie approached. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm entering the bet race," PJ answered while Neelson began registering himself and Velos.

"Any reason?" Velos asked.

"I wanted to show everyone how _good _we taxi drivers are!" PJ proclaimed proudly.

"…you got fired, didn't you?" Velos asked with a knowing look in his eyes.

"Uh…suspended, actually," PJ reluctantly replied. "I got in a fight with my boss because I wanted a raise, since I'm the highest faire earner in Galaxy Cab. And maybe a bigger taxi, too, so I can actually fit passengers over thirty feet tall. So, he suspended me."

"Good thing I don't need the cab anymore," Velos said, shaking his head as his hair slightly swung. "I can't stand some of the other cabbies."

"Then I remembered that you were going to be an F-Zero racer," PJ continued. "So I had my cab converted into an F-Zero machine. Better watch out, 'cause the Groovy Taxi's coming to town!"

"…Groovy Taxi?" Velos asked slowly. "PJ, disco died out over 300 years ago."

"Not on some planets!" PJ countered jovially.

"Okay, kiddo, you and I are signed up," Neelson announced. "Let's check the board and see who we're up against."

A large screen displayed a list of twelve names, lined up in the position that they were intended to start in. Each name was bright neon green contrasting a black screen, displaying the name to the entire bar. The twelve racers listed were:

Michael Chain

James McCloud

Samurai Goroh

Mighty Gazelle

Velos Inner

Super Arrow

Zoda

Bio Rex

Octoman

Silver Neelson

Captain Falcon

PJ

"Hey, how come I'm in last?" PJ complained.

"Because people know what your flying is like," Velos answered, jabbing a jest at the cabbie-turned-racer.

"Well, what do you know, kid!" Neelson chuckled. "You're gonna race against the famous Falcon!"

"And lose miserably," Velos responded.

"Hey, Vee, just because it's your first real F-Zero race doesn't mean you need to win," PJ encouraged.

"Yeah, kiddo," Neelson added. "Just do your best. That's all that matters."

"I agree," said a fourth voice.

Behind the three appeared a fourth man, garbed in a white jacket and green pants with silver boots and brown gloves. His eyes were obscured by dark sunglasses, and his brown hair was spiked backwards with a white streak running down the middle. The brown shirt underneath his jacket matched well with his gloves.

"Wait, don't tell me," Velos suddenly said, "I'm psychic that way. Let's see, it's coming to me, it's coming to me…James McCloud, right? Pilot of the Little Wyvern, number ten?"

"You're one smart kid, Velos," James smiled. "I guess that knowledge comes from watching various GP races."

"So, James, how you doing?" Neelson asked.

"Fine, Silver, thanks," James nodded. "I was actually wondering about your little protégé here."

"Say what?" Velos asked suddenly.

"James McCloud trains a lot of good F-Zero racers," PJ explained. "Word is he even trained Ryu Suzaku, and he's the best racer next to Falcon!"

"It's true," James nodded. "I had the honor of being able to give Ryu a little training. The Federation racers aren't as bad as you think they are, Velos."

"I don't think they're bad at racing," Velos denied, "I just think they're as annoying as Zoda is messed up in the head."

"So this is the famed bruise over the 'orphanage incident'," James smirked. "I guess fate has a funny way of doing things."

"I'll say," Velos agreed, looking over the two names that his happened to be placed between. "Oh, great god of irony, why dost thou torture me so?"

"Don't like Mighty Gazelle and Super Arrow?" James asked. "Arrow I kind of understand, but what do you have against Mighty Gazelle? He was a victim of the accident, just like your parents."

"Yeah, but Cyber Stick Incorporated managed to fix Roy Hughes by making him a walking moped," Velos said. "I've always felt that if that kind of thing was used for my parents, they would still be here, y'know?" Velos added with a shrug.

"Well…I have an offer for you, Velos," James began. "If you can place in the top six here, you can train with me sometime."

"Now _that _is a primo opportunity, kiddo!" Neelson chimed in.

A smirk spread across Velos' face. A chance to train with James McCloud! If he could keep up with James, he could keep up with Ryu Suzaku and perhaps even Falcon himself!

"Sounds good," Velos said. "See you then."

"I'll be looking forward to it," James smirked before leaving to attend to his machine.

"You are one lucky kid!" Neelson laughed. "Being trained by both me _and _James McCloud! You'll be one to look out for in the Prix, that's for sure!"

"Yeah, that reminds me," Velos said, "have to get the Chariot at the starting gate."

The three racers headed off to the garage, eagerly awaiting the start of the bet race.

****

Moments later, Ryu Suzaku, Mr. EAD, and Jack Levin approached the list of competitors.

"Looks like we're too late to register," Ryu pointed out.

"Heh, don't sweat it, Ryu!" Jack laughed. "We can find out what that Inner kid can do just by watching!"

"I know," Ryu said grimly, "but look at who he's racing against."

He pointed at the three top names on the list, to which Jack quickly shed his cocky demeanor.

"He's going against Michael Chain _and _Samurai Goroh?!" Jack cried. "Falcon and James McCloud, too?! Man, looks like that kid's in for a rough ride!"

"Obviously," Ryu said. "Let's just see how he handles it."

****


End file.
